The 25 Best Restaurants in Dallas

The Green Room

Best Reason to Go to Deep Ellum

Most “green rooms” are backstage havens where actors can hang out during offstage interludes of a performance-casual, comfortable places, often shabby, certainly never showy.

So much for theater lore. Walk into this Green Room, and you’ll swear you’ve stumbled onto the stage rather than behind it. Mammoth gilt cherubs hover over a splendid antique bar, smaller ones soar among gilt columns, some real, some painted on the walls. A purple crushed-velvet curtain half separates cocktail and dining areas. Except for wall-hung string instruments and poster art of various anachronistic vintage, the effect could suggest Victorian melodrama of period French farce-but is this a set, or a Deep Ellum send-up?

Taste the food, and you won’t really care, Chef Chris Pyun, a Culinary Institute of America graduate, has cooked with the celebrated Daniel Boulud at Le Cirque and Daniel in New York. His cuisine is avant French, scaled down price-wise via resourceful mixing of local and seasonal ingredients with more exotic elements; an occasional snap of piquancy salutes Southwestern influences.

As in, for starters, a red bell pepper soup of consummate delicacy and smoothness, barely laced with lingering fire from a float of jalapeno coulis that spelled out “Room” in (well, of course) green across its surface. An appetizer of sautéed fresh foie gras provided milder poetry for the palate-the crisp-edged slices, meltingly tender, lay on a tangle of market-fresh baby greens, strewn with enormous blueberries and dressed with a fine vinaigrette.

Entree presentations were splendid, their execution flawless. My companion’s selection reflected the current trendy predilection for stacking a plate’s contents rather than arranging them horizontally. His half-pound cut of yellowfin tuna, grilled to succulent perfection, lay on a bed of grilled squash rounds, and was itself crowned with thick, crunch-battered, fried sweet onion rings. Since the structure has to be disassembled to be eaten, I can’t think why chefs are having so much fun with this small kitchen conceit; but since the food in this case was scrumptious, we were not displeased.

My own poached salmon filet was perfection, ruddy and rare, served in a vast shallow soup plate with diced fennel root and tomato in a rosemary-scented honeydew melon broth of transcendent subtlety.

Service was a happy blend of warmth and professionalism; the people mix ran from casual youth to spiffy older types. Some may have come partly because of the musical good times that roll nightly in an adjoining room as well as in Trees, the next-door club also owned by the Green Room’s proprietors. Once fed here, though, 1 can’t imagine anyone’s giving top billing to any act besides the kitchen’s.

2715 Elm St., 214-748-7865. Lunch Monday-Saturday; dinner daily. Moderate. -B.C.



Landmark Restaurant

Best Place for a Hot Time

As dozens of touring showbiz types know full well, a person could do worse than to live in the Melrose Hotel. This beautifully rejuvenated vintage hostelry has all the grace of a grand old home in its lobby and mellow Library lounge, plus a door-to-dining room staff that positively radiates genuine cordiality.

The aforementioned dining room, the Landmark, is as cosseting and convivial a setting as Dallas offers, and its food is as memorable as its ambiance.

Perhaps more so, on some levels. Chef Kent Rathbun calls his cuisine New World, which means it travels beyond New Texan and New American to encompass New Everything. Since Rathbun’s own research travels took him to Bangkok and other points East, many of his most stunning accents are New Asian.

“Stunning,” used here, is no mere superlative, but a reference to Rathbun’s audacious adoption of ethnic spice. In the present culinary era of enthusiasm for blister-raising seasonings (our own regional peppers among them), this is no criticism, but rather a gentle warning that like other trend-setting bills of fare we know and honor, this chef’s menu doesn’t always signal its fiery surprises.

Take a starter of yellowfin tuna “pressed sushi” with daikon and beet confetti salad. What could sound more innocent? Or could have looked lovelier on the plate than ruddy rounds of firm fish wrapped in rice and seaweed, sided by crisp strands of white radish and scarlet beet, with a soupcon of green wasabi, pale baby ginger and a tiny dish of soy sauce to guard against blandness? Let me tell you, every element of the dish was incendiary, even the rice- even the soy sauce sans wasabi. Divinely delicious as it was–and it was-I couldn’t finish it; the pain was too great.

My companion’s yellow tomato and crab gazpacho, on the other hand, struck an elegant balance of fresh flavor with pepper snap, the cool blond soup threaded with sweet crab shreds as well as subtle fire. Her entree was a symphonic composition of mild Mediterranean elements-a sextet of enormous grilled shrimp encircling goat cheese ravioli tanged with warm Basalmic v inaigrette and sided with a Tuscan green bean salad studded with pine nuts.

My own grilled rack of lamb was a masterpiece, two perfect double chops on a super-spicy mole rojo, beside a corn-shuck tamale cone filled with sweet, fresh corn pudding barely zipped with pepper. The spicy presences here, though assertive, were not too much and enhanced the dish.

Certain we couldn’t manage more than a bite of dessert, we shared something called Gooey Chocolate Cake, and found paradise in a tender cake shell’s soft, fudgy center, with vanilla ice cream and a fling of berries, sinfully delectable to the last fought-over crumb.

And as much of a surprise as my searing sushi. So hey, don’t take my earlier warning too seriously-if you go through life eating cautiously, what you’ll get is bored.

But never at the Landmark.

In the Melrose Hotel, 3015 Oak Lawn Ave., 214-521-5151. Breakfast daily; lunch weekdays; dinner Monday-Saturday; Sunday brunch. Moderate to expensive. -B.C.

Star Canyon

Best New Lone Star Legend

When it comes to glittering, inventive, and inspired restaurants with a distinctly Texas twang, I find myself singing Star Canyon’s praises to the big open skies. In truth, every inch of chef and part-owner Stephan Pyles’ latest eatery, from local artist Pena’s serpentine metal door handles and hook ’em horns sconces, to the rawhide banquettes cordoned off with barbed wire and nigged chuck wagon murals on the walls, pulsates with the energy of his original, creative “new Texas theme.” One of the early founders of Southwestern cuisine. Chef Pyles here abandons much of his New American and Same Fe-inspired cuisine to focus on the allegedly humble fare of his native state, raising it to new heights by melding intricate, unexpected flavors; by blending and juxtaposing regional and exotic ingredients; and by creating dish after dish that is at once beautiful, bountiful, and awe-inspiring.

On a recent visit we were seated at the Grill, a granite counter with calf-skin covered stools, available on a walk-in basis, where 1 was bedazzled by the syncopated action of the front kitchen staff as they prepared their glorious dishes, coordinated their efforts, and rechecked each platter before sending it out to the patrons at large. For starters on a warm night, my companion selected a cool avocado and tomato soup, a visual yin-yang of pale green liquid swirled against red, with an intricate undercurrent of seafood broth topped with chopped seafood. Though I was drawn to the barbecued shrimp enchilada and the venison tamale, both temptingly packaged, I selected the latter, wrapped like a party favor in a com husk tied at each end with raffia and filled with masa and a spicy, if somewhat heavy, bean and venison chile, a prime example of the mix of the mundane and exotic. Following this, we shared a delectable Caesar salad, its romaine leaves heavily dusted with pepperina cheese and, in place of crunchy toasted croutons, squares of tasty polenta seasoned with jalapenos. Though I eat less red meat than I once did, I was so eager to discover why Chef Pyles’ huge Cowboy riheye was such a popular item that I elected to try one. The enormous piece of Angus beef, bone in, delectably flavored from being singed over hot hickory flames was spectacular, tender, moist, and rare within. As if that were not enough, it was finished off with a reduced ancho sauce and piled high with a glorious mound of thinly sliced red onions, deep fried on the spot, with Texas-style com kernels, mushrooms, and beans mixed in. Meanwhile, my companion, a fish lover, was delighted with her mint marigold-basted trout atop a delicate seafood angel-hair pasta.

At another meal, seated at a table in the outdoor courtyard, 1 started with a tamale tart, much like a quiche, mildly seasoned with garlic and lump crabmeat. Next, I delighted in lean, fresh, farm-raised, cilantro-cured venison, another favorite, sliced thin, arranged in a fan, and prepared rare as requested. Throughout, my companion and I were treated to a variety of exceptional, often home-cooked breads, including a spicy blue corn variety in the shape of a star and another studded with pepito or pumpkin seeds. In the evening, the patrons, many specially attired for the occa-sion, appeared to be so chic, leggy, and attractive, I could not help but wonder where they were the rest of the time. Lunch is considerably more casual and surprisingly reasonable.

If you’re of the less-is-more school, you may not favor Chef Pyles’ copyrighted Heaven and Hell cake. Allegedly angel food, devil’s food, and peanut butter with chocolate icing, the gargantuan sweet measures 5 inches high and was rich indeed. A crisp of blackberries, raspberries, and strawberries on rolled oats topped with buttermilk ice cream came closest to what I long for at the close of a close-to-perfect meal.

3102 Oak Lawn Ave., 214-520-7827. Lunch Monday-Friday; dinner daily. Moderate to expensive,-J. H.

City Cafe

Best Little Place with a Big Spirit

This bistro’s deep red walls, forest green carpet, and complimentary marinated vegetables and olives at each table demonstrate its classic side. So do the excellent service, white tablecloths, and wooden charger plates. But its exhibition kitchen and chef Katie Schma’s totally innovative menu (which changes every two weeks) put this restaurant on the cutting edge. The wine list mixes it up, too, a serious one with 17 by-the-glass choices, seven magnums, and everything in between. This big list contains helpful notes and has earned awards from The Wine Spectator for the last seven years. But the restaurant’s playful side takes over on the “ABC” pages-wines that are “anything but cabernet or chardonnay.”

Meals start with Empire Bakery’s crusty sourdough and toasted bread, piled in fun, animal-shaped wire baskets. Shrimp and crawfish cakes, one of the restaurant’s signature appetizers that’s usually on the menu, are nicely spicy, crisp patties, served with a duo of sauces. Salads, fresh, crisp and nicely tossed, usually include a lemony Caesar and an autumnal-tasting warm cabbage salad with peppered bacon and Roquefort. City Cafe’s escolar, a fish similar to halibut, but juicier and more flavorful, has attracted scores of fans and sells out quickly. It’s served vertical-fashion, with cumin-crusted stacked filets sitting on Spanish-style rice flecked with tomatoes and onions, even thing topped with fried onion shreds and surrounded by drizzled sauces of smoked plum and cilantro-spiked mango. Other dinner favorites have included goat cheese-stuffed chicken breast in a sun-dried tomato sauce and grilled pork chop with whipped sweet potatoes and spicy greens.

Save room for dessert here: Katie’s brother, Doug Schma, creates them. The menu also lists coffee drinks, dessert wines by the half-bottle or glass, as well as a nice choice of ports and brandies. The chocolate Kahlúa cake, with its layers of meringue and butter cream, offers a great play of textures and tastes. Next door, City Cafe To Go sells some of the best take-out food in the area. It might inspire you to plan a picnic, but, in City Cafe fashion, you might also want to pack a few plastic ants for the fun of it.

5757 W. Lovers Ln., 214-351-2233. Lunch Monday-Saturday; dinner daily; Sunday brunch. Moderate. -S.H.



Nana Grill

Best Food with Altitude

Besides being larger than some towns I’ve lived in, the Wyndham Anatole Hotel has always been a delicious place to people-watch. Sit in its vast main lobby for half an hour and you’ll see sheiks and secretaries, politicians and potentates, conventioneers and corporate power brokers.

Ah, well, but sit in the hotel’s 27th-floor Nana Grill, and you’ll feel for a while you could buy and sell them all. Part of that illusion is the altitude, of course, and the grill’s sweeping view through floor-to-ceiling glass walls. Part is owed to the plush decor and rich table appointments, and to the serving staff’s polished competence. In this setting, they could serve me grits and gravy, and I’d feel rich.

Actually, when Nana Grill opened as the first Southwestern restaurant in the territory, some version of grits and gravy may have been on the menu. Not now, though-Chef Scott Blackerby’s visible-through-glass kitchen conjures more cosmopolitan fare: herbed polenta and lamb jus is about as homey as he gets.

Take starters, for example. A trademark house favorite, baked oysters with cilantro pesto, was ambrosial, the tender mollusks seductively briny under crispy topping, Carpaccio of buffalo arrayed lean, dark-red ribbons of uncooked meat on mustard oil, with fresh mixed greens and mango relish far texture contrast.

As it happened, both entrees we chose were featured specials-four were offered beyond the menu’s regular nine. Black pepper-crusted sea scallops were exactly that; great pearly rounds as thick as a three-dollar stack of quarters, completely coated in coarse-ground pepper on a tart-sweet kiwi-ginger vinaigrette that precisely complemented the otherwise unseasoned scallops. The plate’s velvety carrot risotto alone would have been worth its cost, and apple-mango salsa delivered a fresh kick.

Roasted shoulder of venison was tender and rather tame in a shallot rosemary sauce; truffle mashed potatoes were a superb accompaniment, along with spicy arugula and corn relish.

Our desserts were splendid-a strawberry Napoleon fantasy slathered with mint whipped cream and brandied cherries; housemade raspberry and mango sorbets sculptured to resemble a peach in an almond cookie-both pretty enough to be auctioned as art, besides capping a dining adventure as suave as can be found in Dallas.

In the Wyndham Anatole Hotel tower, 2201 Stemmons Frwy., 214-761-7479. Lunch weekdays; dinner daily; Sunday brunch. Expensive. -B.C.



The Mansion on Turtle Creek

Best Place to See and Be Seen

Few restaurants in Dallas, or anywhere on the planet, enjoy the reputation and following of The Mansion on Turtle Creek, the elegant dining establishment within Rosewood’s five-star world-class hotel and resort of the same name. Once past the phalanx of Rolls-Royces and limos lined up in the circular drive, past the Mansion’s gabled, Mediterranean-inspired stucco facade, beyond its heavy wood door, The Mansion bids an awe-inspiring, formal welcome with an extravagant, breathtakingly beautiful, array of European and Asian lilies. The enormous porcelain is but the first of many signs-the high, European-inspired bas relief ceilings; thick, twisting baroque columns; and the graceful glass enclosed verandah overlooking a tiled terrace and small stone fountain- that one is leaving everyday life behind and entering a splendid realm.

The driving force behind the restaurant is Dean Fearing, who, along with Stephan Pyles and several others, elevated the previously little-known food of the Southwest, especially that of Santa Fe, to a new breed of gourmet fare by the introduction of surprising ingredients and novel interpretations of such simple and popular dishes as salsas, enchiladas, and marinades.

On a recent Saturday at lunch, I started with one of my favorites-Chef Fearing’s renowned tortilla soup, comprised of chicken broth, a touch of tomatoes and onions, topped with roasted shredded tortillas and cheddar cheese. Next, after our waiter recommended them above all else, my companion and 1 shared crab cakes, which were crisp and meaty, though the sauce surrounding them did little to enhance their flavor.

A few nights later, having made 9 o’clock reservations, we got off to a bumpy start when we were shepherded into a large, wood-paneled sitting room off the foyer, where for the next 55 minutes we listened to a pianist who played off and on while we sipped San Pellegrino water and munched on mixed nuts. This being The Mansion, we had expected things to go smoother-and to our delight, they very quickly did.

Once we got settled in a comer banquette in the main dining room, we were lavished with special attention. Marvelous thins of toasted rye bread and sweet butter were set before us. Captains, sommeliers, waitstaff in white jackets appeared as if from the marble-work and, before long, premium champagne by the flute glass was washing away our fleeting discontent. The long, inspired, and ambitious menu seemed full to overflowing with enticing choices.

My companion began with the lobster taco, a soft flour taco filled with luscious lobster meat and runny white cheese that was both subtle and delicious. For my part, I was delighted with spirited, pan-seared, barbecued oysters on a bed of spinach and red onions served with a sharp, contrasting blue-cheese dressing. Since we had never tried it before, we chose to split an order of Broken Arrow Ranch venison, farm-raised game similar to beef, that was so rare, tender, and lean that it only took a few forkfuls to fill each of us.

For dessert, my friend enjoyed an incredible, clear-tasting, brightly hued trio of lemon, mango, and coconut sorbets in a waffle cone basket, while I feasted happily on The Mansion’s light crème brulée swimming in a pool of raspberry syrup. We deemed the evening a success despite The Mansion’s inability to live up, in every particular, to its own sky-topping reputation.

2821 Turtle Creek Blvd., 214-559-2100. Lunch Monday-Saturday; dinner daily; brunch Sunday. Expensive, —].H.

The Palm Restaurant

Best New York Import

The first Palm was founded in New York City in the 70s; they say it catered to newspapermen, artists, and writers. I do say few of these could afford to be daily regulars now. Which hardly matters-The Palm has since evolved into a self-professed meeting place for political figures, business executives, and celebrities, and to make itself convenient to this clientele, has branched from East Coast to West Coast to Florida coast, and selected points between, including Dallas. Yes, it zipped into the West End dur-ing our city’s palmiest (sorry ’bout that) high-rolling ’80s era, but the Palm has held its own handily here through lean times, too.

Why? Oh, partly because its insouciant service and lack of cushiony frills perhaps smack of the brawling, brassy frontier attitudes Texans still like to claim as characteristic. Partly because the canny management flatters elite partons with wallfuls of their faces in colorful caricatures.

But mostly because the food is, as management claims, superb. At least, the steaks and lobsters ate. Funny thing about The Palm: Between visits, one tends to forget that the menu covers all kinds of other ground, from lamb to linguini, veal to seafood, vegetable sides and salads. One intends to try all those someday, but meanwhile, one rarely gets past the beef when actually ordering, because one has dined here before and knows The Palm’s way with beef is magical.

In this case, one is two, myself and a fellow steak lover. Starters were a portent of too-much-to-eat to come-his was shrimp cocktail, an entree-sized spread of fine giant shrimp baldly laid out beside a small bowl of red sauce. Mine was a divine structure I’ve never seen anywhere else, a quarter head of iceberg lettuce totally covered with roasted pimiento halves and crowned with anchovy filets, the whole affair dressed with a good vinaigrette. With quirky simplicity, the menu calls it Pimientos & Anchovies; it is goofy looking, it is messy to eat, and it is to die for.

So were our steaks, a prime, aged New York strip for him, a filet mignon big as a baby’s head for me. Both were perfectly cooked, crusty outside and rare within, and a good deal of both went home with us later in the containers Palm waiters are quite accustomed to providing. String beans sautéed with garlic were good company for the beef; one order was more than ample to share.

We did not shame our sissy selves further by ordering a dessert we could not finish. I’m not sure our waiter would have let us do it, anyhow-like all The Palm’s servers I’ve seen, he combined no-nonsense briskness with an almost paternal sensitivity to our needs. I found his manner as competently refreshing as everything else about this restaurant.

701 Ross Ave., 214-698-0470. Lunch weekdays; dinner daily. Expensive. -B.C.



Calluaud’s Bistro

Best 12th Restaurant by a Dallas Legend

For many years and in many different locations, Calluaud’s has held its own as one of Dallas’ most charming, initmate French eateries, featuring classical presentations that remained luxuriant and unwaveringly Gallic.

Although the restaurant’s muted tapestries and country French cabinetry remain unchanged, Calluaud’s Bistro on Lovers Lane near Inwood now concentrates on casual entrees as well as lapas, Although I think of tapas, including spicy meats and marinated vegetables, as the mainstay of late-night bars in Spain, Chef Calluaud’s selection, which encompasses the Mediterranean coastline, includes “small bites” straight from his previous, skillfully executed, traditional French menu.

The tapas were divided on the menu between hot and cold, and from the hot offerings 1 soon zeroed in on several favorites, including a large portion of crunchy calamari and another of soft, perfectly roasted new potatoes, both with aioli, an olive-oil based mayonnaise so redolent with garlic it could make an old sneaker taste good. 1 also enjoyed a Moroccan merquez, a small, spicy lamb sausage dipped in a very hot harissa or shredded red pepper sauce; a grilled quail, gamy and seasoned with fresh herbs; and escargot with butter and parsley. Three demure pair of frog’s legs Provencale were tasty, a small order of veal sweetbreads sautéed with shallots heavenly, and fresh crab claws in oil with parsley and shallots proved habit-forming.

Among the cold appetizers, 1 especially favored the coarsely ground, perfectly textured, highly seasoned French country paté of pork, veal, and chicken liver decorated with aspic and red gazpa-cho, a zesty purée of tomatoes, peppers, and onions with cucumbers and homemade croutons. I was also pleased with the artichoke hearts, drizzled with a bright olive oil and served with a bountiful supply of nicoise and kalamata olives. Small rounds of steak tartare were heady with a mix of capers, onions, and especially mustard.

Among entrees, 1 thoroughly enjoyed the moist, fresh, perfectly cooked red snapper topped with tomatoes, onions, cracked black pepper, green peppercorns, rosemary, and a touch of vinegar. served with sautéed squash. Couscous, a North African pasta made from crushed and steamed seminola, sweetened with onions and raisins, was delectable, though I could not find the lemon in the accompanying lemon chicken. A small, whole, warm apple tart finished oft the meal perfectly.

Calluaud’s is a busy, attentive, family-run restaurant and it is not unusual to he seated by the owners trim wife or teenage daughter or to see the chef himself come out from the kitchen to set a table or to straighten the silver. Though I will miss the restaurant’s fine classic French presentation and offerings, I can only hope that the changes continue to bring Calluaud’s a large and loyal audience.

5405 W. Lovers Ln.,214-352-1997. Lunch and dinner Monday-Saturday. Moderate. -J.H.



The Grape

Best Place That Never Seems to Change

Whip those sunglasses off before entering this tiny restaurant lit only by candles, strings of illuminated “grapevines,” and beautiful ceiling fixtures of glass grape bunches. The room is painted to look mellowly aged, like an old wine cellar, and it’s guaranteed to stir up romance. Every neighborhood needs a restaurant like this, a place where you feel welcome and comfortable, a casual, no-reservations, home-away-from-home. One wall of the room is taken up by a window into the kitchen, where chef David Burdette toils, and a huge blackboard colorfully chalked with the dinner menu, specials, and the wines by the glass. The wines alone provide a good reason to visit The Grape, which has received honors from The Wine Spectator. The wine list is small, reasonably priced, and consists of bottles and half-bottles from all over the world.

Empire Bakery gets the credit tor the delicious breads served here, as bread-baking equipment can’t be squeezed into The Grape’s tiny kitchen. Appetisers range from European, like a cheese and paté board, to Southwestern, like crab cakes with an ancho chili caper remoulade. Whatever you order, start out with the wonderful homemade soup. This version has local renown, and justifiably so-lightly creamy, and packed with mushrooms, it whets the appetite for what’s next. The spicy gazpacho also scores points, thick with diced tomatoes and chunks of crawfish and with cilantro crème fraiche puddled on top.

The menu changes every few days, and you’ll never know what to expect. The entrees include classics like beef tournedos, osso buco, and grilled swordfish, but Burdette gives each a unique spin with his highly creative sauces and accompaniments. Sandwiches come with crispy homemade potato chips, and the fried catfish sandwich with grilled green tomatoes on cheese bread couldn’t be better. The homemade desserts are a must-have, and Burdette shared his recipe tor the banana rum tart upon request. The Jack Daniels chocolate pecan pie might be a caloric disaster, but at least you’ll go down with a smile on your face.

2808 Greenville Ave., 214-828-1981. Lunch weekdays; dinner daily. Moderate. -S.H.

Sipango

Best Food with Attitude

Many Dallas diners have a strange love-hate relationship with Sipango, the attractive, trendy, popular restaurant that serves casual and often excellent California, Pacific Rim, and Italian dishes in a large, attractive exposed -brick restaurant on Travis Street. Some resent the compulsory three-dollar charge for valet parking in Sipango’s spacious, privately owned lot. Others find it hard to understand why some patrons appear to he on a California kissy-kissy basis with the powers-that-be here, while other mere mortals receive a stony glance at most.

Setting aside those caveats, there’s plenty to recommend Sipango. Much care has been put in to create a relaxed and casual decor. I especially like the small, gold, woven-glass shades, in several -ires, that illuminate many tables; the curved white pi::a oven; and the seemingly endless bar that tills up so much on weekends that passage is difficult,

Nearly all of Sipango’s offerings are light and many can be categorized as one form of appetizer or another. Of these, I especially recommend an unusual shrimp cake brightened with peppers and ginger, beautifully presented on a bed of greens, with wisps of lightly tried leeks. Calamari, quickly stir-tried in oil with julienne red pepper, was exquisite. Another extraordinary appetizer was a dish of barely grilled tuna, beautifully presented with a long single thin strand of cucumber and a dice of ginger and peppers. I also enjoyed a house salad of soft greens, shredded Parmesan cheese, and pecans.

As for entrees, a plate of grilled vegetables, including Portabello mushrooms, zucchini, pimiento, tomatoes, and eggplant, with soft, custardy polenta and a smattering of gorgonzola, was excellent. Though there were several pizza and bruschetta choices, my dining companion and I never got to them. Of the many pasta choices 1 chose one with shrimp, mussels, and assorted seafood and found it enjoyable.

For dessert, we shared an airy, beautiful, extraordinary three-layer chocolate mousse cake. The top layer was white chocolate; the next, medium; the bottom, dark; and at the hase was a thin layer of darkest chocolate.

4513 Travis St., 214-522-2411- Lunch Monday-Friday; dinner daily.—J.H.



Dakota’s

Best Underground Restaurant

You descend just one elevator ride below the bustling city of Dallas, but Dakota’s exists light-years away in spirit. The cool, dark retreat of a dining room features an exquisite marble floor. Equally swell is the outdoor patio, with its five-tiered waterfall (loud, don’t sit too close) and flower-lined walls. As night falls, and the hundreds of tiny white bulbs light up, this becomes one of the most romantic patios in town.

A good way to begin dinner is with the appetizer sampler, five different items with four fun sauces, tike toasted pumpkin-seed salsa. The grilled Portabello mushrooms taste smokily good; delicate tiny crab cakes make a sweet mouthful, and, it you’re sharing the platter, make sure to grab some of the smoked chicken que-sadillas fast. Don’t fill up on the rolls. They’re home-baked, but the soups get much higher marks, especially the chowder rich with corn and smoked chicken. This very creative menu takes familiar food and gives it Dakota’s distinctive touch, like the basic grilled tenderloin that’s served with fried cayenne-dusted onions and cactus salsa. Lighter choices, with calories and fat grams listed, as well as vegetarian options, abound. The lamb chops, which create regular customers, come saved with pots of mint jelly and feta cheese vinaigrette and flavorful angel-hair pasta with roasted tomatoes. The wild game mixed grill plate, heaped equally high with vegetables, showcases the juicy buffalo sausage.

Whatever you do, save room for the homemade desserts. The cheesecake is a lightened version and the “ooey gooey” brownies demand a serious sweet tooth. But, for me, there’s no choice-the sweet/tart Key lime pie, please, made with limes flown in from Florida. You’ll be remembering every bite of it on that too-quick trip back up in the elevator. 600 N. Akard St., 214-740-4001. Lunch weekdays; dinner daily. Moderate.-S.H.



The Riviera

Most Reliable

What do you do when a Dallas restaurant becomes the first to mark its 11th year of exalted ratings without a single lapse?

You celebrate if you’re Franco Bertolaci, who left a secure post as host of an acclaimed hotel restaurant to risk opening his own establishment in 1984- Or if you’re David Holben, with him as chef from day one and now executive chef of the Riviera and its more northern sibling, Mediterraneo.

Or, for that matter, if you’re any Dallas diner engaged in ongoing pursuit of the ultimate dining experience. An eager participant in this sport, I know of nowhere in Dallas where food, service, and ambiance unfailingly come-together in a more pleasurable whole, from greeting, seating, and gift hots d’oeuvre (this visit, a pouf of foie gras on a mini toast round) to hitter smooth chocolate truffle for farewell lagniappe.

Between those first and last grace notes, every course we sampled shone with the exuberance characteristic of the restaurant as well as its namesake Mediterranean region; with Holben’s time split between two locations, Chef de Cuisine Michael Weinstein’s dishes convey a creative style perhaps at times lustier, but no less polished than the clientele here knows to expect.

A day’s special appetizer combined rich nuggets of Maine lobster with fresh-scented celery root in sautéed cakes nestled on opal basil-lobster sauce along with infant leaves of aural and cilantro. The regular menu’s perfect summer soup was a chilled Provencal blending of fresh and sun-dried tomato afloat with ripe avocado slices around a crouton heaped with crabmeat. The simplest salad imaginable-mixed greens with a goat cheese-spread crouton-was made extraordinary by its dressing, the subtlest sherry vinaigrette I can remember.

Our entrees brilliantly demonstrated the kitchen’s versatility: my companion’s braised veal shank was a rich man’s osso buco, earthy and bold in a Madeira wine sauce, served with a tiny fork to dig succulent marrow from long-roasted bones. Chive-whipped potatoes and baby vegetables made this dish lovely peasant food tor royalty. In delicate contrast, my plate was spanned by a whisper-thin slice of salmon flank, flame-glazed on a buttery champagne-chive sauce, its rosy whorls truly beautiful, framed in shiitake mushrooms.

Crème brulée, a citrusy version, was rich as remembered; cherry-peach cobbler was a striking composition of dried cherries and fresh peach slices spilling from frilled cinnamon puff pastry into a fresh-cherry glaze under whipped cream. How can one atone for such a sin?

Why, by counting one’s blessings, I’d suggest, at having the Riviera’s merry excellence now and forever close at hand.

7709 Inwood Rd., 214-351-0094. Dinner daily. Reservations essential. Expensive. -B.C.



Laurels

Best Room with a View

On one cushioned wall of the elevator that lifts you 20 floors to Laurels, Chef de Cuisine David Reardon is pictured beside his promise to serve you “food that looks good enough to make you want to eat with your eyes.” The copywriter is guilty of serious understatement-not just the food, but everything about this lofty restaurant more than merely looks good. The glass-walled space is lavish, the view spectacular (try it when rain is reshaping the distant downtown skyline in dreamy watercolors). Service excels in even the smallest details-bread brought warm is replaced as it cools; bottled water is poured chilled, unsullied by common ice; food and wine descriptions are knowledgeable and discreetly shared.

And yes, the New American cuisine is dazzling. One aspect of it is new indeed-a recently introduced prix fixe menu melds North and South American foods in a varied selection of consciously health-aware appetizers, entrees, and desserts labeled with their calorie and tat contents. For $49.50, the meal includes three courses, wine, beer, or soft drinks, and coffee.

Ordered à la carte, any of these dishes can he happily complementary to the regular menu. A starter of soft-shelled crab, tor instance, planted the crispy fried little creature on small, white, South American Tepary beans, fashionably al dente with seared asparagus stalks. A roasted red bell pepper-ancho essence-subtly piquant, as the pepper presence should be but so seldom is-completed the plate, clocking in at a paltry 180 calories, two grams of fat. We knew not to ask for the count on Laurels’ fumed black enchilada appetizer, which lived up to its legend with meaty chunks of lobster and shrimp bathed in verde sauce and chile lime cream.

My dining companion’s mixed grill was a virile spread of fatless antelope, lamb, and quail, all splendidly set out on a sun-dried cherry sauce and gilded with pear-jalapeno chutney, a tart blast of sunshine. My grilled swordfish steak, while simpler, was equally wonderful, a moistly tender cut bedded on basil-kissed orzo with Roma tomato nuances and a fennel-caper salad.

Intrigued by the novelty of commeal in a dessert, we tried a chocolate polenta soufflé and found it suitably high and proud, crisply edged and brightly sauced with mango, raspberry, and strawberry. I confess I’d have been as happy to settle tor the espresso, a mellow Starbucks house blend that ended the meal as amiably as the live piano ended the serene dinner hour’s main wave, before segueing into zippier tempos for the late lounge crowd.

In the Sheraton Park Central, 12720 Merit Dr., 214-385-3000. Dinner Monday-Saturday. Expensive. -B.C.



La Calle Doce

Best Use of an Old House

La Calle Doce means 12th Street, and that’s where this charm-ing house-turned-restaurant sits. Tables till the tiny rooms, lace curtains decorate the windows, and you can choose to dine by the fireplace or on one of the patios outdoors. Enlargements of family photos-owners Oscar and Laura Sanchez’s brood- proudly line the walls. When the restaurant opened about 14 years ago, Oscar was the chef until he trained someone to take his place so that he, Laura, and Laura’s sister, Alma, could manage the restaurant. In this serene atmosphere, you almost expect to see a cart wheeled up, loaded with pots of tea, crumpets, and finger sandwiches. But don’t expect afternoon tea here. Instead, plan to indulge in some of the best, freshest seafood around.

Meals start off best with good, stout margaritas that you can enjoy with tortilla chips and good salsa while plotting your meal. During a recent lunch, we stoically drank iced tea while gazing yearningly at all the frozenmargaritas being consumed around us, until we finally succumbed and ordered a couple to enjoy with our desserts.

A seafood cocktail appetizer, chunks of fish, oysters, scallops, shrimp, and squid served in a cilantro-spiked sauce comes to the table in a big goblet, and serves two easily. The seafood, especially the oysters, is top quality. La Calle Doce also reaps constant praise for its generous portions of killer ceviche. The spicy shrimp soup can wake up the taste buds, but the cod soup usually served with the meal, while filled with tender pieces of fish, needs to be doctored with a shot or two of hot sauce. The good, light tortilla soup makes a just-right alternative.

The staff here is unfailingly patient and polite, ready to answer all questions, and makes informed recommendations. Though the menu primarily offers seafood, beef and chicken choices are also plentiful. Herb-marinated, grilled catfish comes to the table whole, on a bed of good, Spanish-style rice, with plenty of mixed vegetables. This moist, tenderly cooked fish might make catfish fans out of those who routinely reject catfish merely because it’s pretty ugly. The crabmeat-stuffed jumbo shrimp also get two thumbs up for flavor, and they come with rice and vegetables, along with a meal-in-itself-sized baked potato, loaded.

The homemade hot apple crisp, made with granola and topped with ice cream, runs circles around the flan served here, or you can hold out for some of the pralines for sale in the front hall. What the hell. Have both, along with a dessert margarita.

415 W. 12th St., 214-941-4304. Lunch and dinner daily. Inexpensive. -S.H.

the organ meats here prepared with consummate skill. Veal kidneys, rich-flavored and fork-tender, were satin smooth in a sauce of lusty whole-grain mustard, soppable to the last drop with hot baguettes. Grilled rabbit was a rustic comfort-food triumph, boned, fragrant with garlic and rosemary, served with roasted potato coins, steamed cauliflower, and carrot.

In the simplest French farm homes, I’m told, country people would end such a small meal by turning their empty plate upside-down and eating dessert from its indented bottom. Watel’s isn’t all that country-the trio of housemade sorbets we savored were intensely suave and citified-but the unstressed pleasures it brings to Dallas diners are as line as a breath of fresh French air.

1923 McKinney Ave., 214-720-0323. Lunch Monday-Friday; dinner daily; Sunday brunch. Moderate.-B.C.



The French Room

Best Old Standby

Grand as it is, the Adolphus Hotel commend-ably retrains from putting on airs-its staff’s manner is courtly and unassuming, as Texas-warm as a small-town neighbor’s howdy. Still, one doesn’t book dinner at the French Room hunting bargains-toned-down decor and mellowed manner notwithstanding, this restaurant is and ever shall he one of the city’s eminent grand occasion dining destinations.

the organ meats here prepared with consummate skill. Veal kidneys, rich-flavored and fork-tender, were satin smooth in a sauce of lusty whole-grain mustard, soppable to the last drop with hot baguettes. Grilled rabbit was a rustic comfort-food triumph, boned, fragrant with garlic and rosemary, served with roasted potato coins, steamed cauliflower, and carrot.

In the simplest French farm homes, I’m told, country people would end such a small meal by turning their empty plate upside-down and eating dessert from its indented bottom. Watel’s isn’t all that country-the trio of housemade sorbets we savored were intensely suave and citified-but the unstressed pleasures it brings to Dallas diners are as line as a breath of fresh French air.

1923 McKinney Ave., 214-720-0323. Lunch Monday-Friday; dinner daily; Sunday brunch. Moderate.-B.C.



The French Room

Best Old Standby

Grand as it is, the Adolphus Hotel commend-ably retrains from putting on airs-its staff’s manner is courtly and unassuming, as Texas-warm as a small-town neighbor’s howdy. Still, one doesn’t book dinner at the French Room hunting bargains-toned-down decor and mellowed manner notwithstanding, this restaurant is and ever shall he one of the city’s eminent grand occasion dining destinations.

For one thing, the price is haughty, if the mien is not. For another, food descriptions are charged with such dramatic eloquence, I suspect the menu could he published as a romance novel; called something kicky-The Dishes of Dallas County, perhaps-it would be a sure best-seller.

Except that hey, this prose isn’t fiction. Every dish we sampled more than delivered the pleasure promised in the bill or fare’s listing. An appetizer of foie gras terrine was fragile slices, fine grained as gardenia petals, with Mesclun salad, the bitter baby greens tossed in cranberry-ginger vinaigrette, decorated with a fan of Pinot noir poached pear. A soup billed as essence of lobster and roasted Roma tomato was exactly that, the lobster flavor, the tomato a gentling element in the broth, which hid a plump pillow of lobster-infused mousse as a creamy surprise in its depths.

Roasted breast of guinea hen, pale and smooth textured, was split and filled with sweet crabmeat on an innocent natural jus perfumed with fresh thyme; infant vegetables-carrot, haricots verts, a button-sized squash-laid color on the plate.

On the bolder side, roasted rib-eye of lamb came as rare cherry circlets, thin-sliced and barely gilt-edged with fat, fanned on roasted garlic and rosemary sauce. An accompanying potato “tartlet” (actually a lofty dome, the menu’s only observed inaccuracy) was studded with fresh corn and bacon.

Hot chocolate cake cupped a dark, creamy center inside its crisp edged shell in a delectable display of contrasting textures, accented by vanilla ice cream on amaretto sauce. A Grand Marnier soufflé, tall and showy, was memorable.

As, in fact, was the entire evening. I rather miss the unabashed splendor the room flaunted in the high-rolling ’80s, but the change from white-gloved hauteur to attentive courtesy is entirely welcome, and the food has never been better, Chef Donald Guillory should he credited on the menu; it is the creativity of his cuisine that makes dining here a special occasion.

In the Adolphus Hotel, 1321 Commerce St, 214-742-6200. Dinner Monday-Saturday. Expensive. -B.C.



Mi Piaci

Most Appropriate Name

The name means “you are pleasing to me,” and it’s quite an under-statement here. Think mi piaci from the minute you walk into the restaurant, past the window where you can watch a team of workers making fresh pasta, past the 80-pound wheel of Parmigiano Reggiano, and into this architecturally stunning restaurant overlooking a Prestonwood pond. Columns twist their way up from the wood floor to the high ceilings, the sponged walls look warmly aged, and the tables’ white cloths might be topped with vases holding a fat leek. There’s a definite sense of play here–no surprise, since the owners also own Natura Cafe, with its enormous vegetable statues.

The tables also hold excellent homemade bread, like chewy breadsticks, focaccia, and slices of rustic Italian bread. That delicious bread, brushed with garlic and olive oil, grilled and topped with chopped basil and tomatoes, forms an excellent, summery appetizer called bruschetta. You can put together a meal from the appetizer list-meats and olives cured in-house, homemade cheeses and sausages, and intensely flavored grilled vegetables. Salads, simple and perfectly executed, range from the spinach salad loaded with roasted peppers and eggplant, to the Tuscan peasant salad featuring tomatoes and bread, to the classic caprese that marries tomatoes, buffalo mozzarella, and basil (homegrown, from the herb garden on the roof).

The pasta is outstanding, especially the fusilli loaded with earthy wild mushrooms, and the risotto ranks among the best in town. The best main course that we sampled was a daily special, Adriatic-style grilled swordfish, served with heavenly grilled asparagus and slices of Tuscan bread topped with tomatoes and olives.

The wine list, naturally, features Italian wines, and the choices, both in terms of price and selection, abound. The rich tiramisu and the refreshing lemon tart get the highest dessert marks. (Like everything here, they’re homemade.)

Diners wanting privacy should check out the wine cellar downstairs, which can be booked for private parties and holds 12 people. The restaurant has also added an outdoor patio overlooking the tranquil pond, Mi Piaci, mi piaci.

14854 Montfort Dr., Addison. 214-934-8424. Lunch weekdays; dinner daily. Moderate. -S.H.

Anzu

Best Asian Ecstasy

Someday, I’m going to walk into this pretty place and order one of each of every appetizer on the menu. On that occasion, judging by those 1 have tasted, I shall have experienced eight kinds of culinary ecstasy tor $52.50 or so.

Or maybe I should simply ask for three orders of the one I could hardly bear to share with my companion on a recent visit-who, in a display of childish selfishness, was equally reluctant to share his appetizer with me. Imagine!

Actually, both fantasies are doomed; Anzu’s entrees are as delightful as its starters, and I can’t imagine dining here without wanting at least one of each. The food defies categorizing-Anzu is the offspring of Nakamoto, a sophisticated Japanese restaurant in Piano. The menu here forthrightly labels its cuisine New American, but Asian influences are as evident in its dishes as the decor.

Which is a happy blend of Western comfort and Japanese restraint, from the merest suggestion of a fountain and combed sand in the entrance to the airy cloth panels that divide booths and along a rear wall. Origami birds flutter from the ceiling; muted stone and wood textures define structural detail.

Back to the food, every bite we tried brought a heady thrill of pleasure to the tongue. Teriyaki grilled Portabello mushroom was a huge, marinated single cap, meaty as steak, sliced for chopstick convenience, and strewn with slivers of vinaigrette-zipped tomato and leek, “Tonkatsu” (that’s New American?) translated into five sumptuously moist oysters, pan-fried in an incredibly crisp batter and served with the subtlest imaginable pungent dipping sauce.

That was appetizers. One entree’s broiled black cod had been marinated in sake for two days, our waiter told us; the two filet slices were meltingly tender, their pearly layers slipping apart at a chopsticks touch, accompanying vinegar-dressed wilted baby greens and grapefruit sections complementing their sweetness. The other main dish arranged 5-inch thick lamb loin steaklets, rosy-rare, in Jack Daniels-fermented black bean sauce around a crisply pan-fried potato cake studded with Chinese sausage.

I know, I know–readers weary of detailed descriptions in critics’ reviews. So trust me: Anzu’s food is swell, the service intelligent and professional, the ambiance charming-even the sake warmed to the correct temperature. I won’t bore you by mentioning the snowy coconut sorbet with blackberries, mango purée, and black sesame wafers we shared for dessert.

4620 McKinney Ave., 214-526-7398. Lunch Monday-Friday; dinner daily, Moderate. -B.C.



Yellow

Most Colorful Experience

Bright yellow awnings over the windows make Yellow easy to spot on restaurant-filled McKinney Avenue, and yellow accents the interior as well. The minimalist-style decor uses white walls and table-cloths to serve as a palette for vivid splashes of accent colors. During the day, sunlight drenches the room; at night, shadows and light artfully play against each other to transform this room into much more than the simple square that it is.

Thar same artistic care shows in the presentation of the food. Plates vary, from oversized and bright with primary colors to simple, textured glass, and the food forms a still life scene (each with a touch of, surprise, yellow) on them. The service is impeccable at lunch, with waiters lurking almost out-of-sight to anticipate the need for more bread or water, but moving at a slower pace on a crowded weekend night. Amazingly nowadays, they never remove a plate until everyone at the table has stopped eating.

The wine list offers a good range of prices, and both the lunch and dinner menus have been revamped, with new dishes added and prices lowered. Appetizers sound enticingly creative, and the sesame-crusted, seared ahi, served with a tangle of mixed greens on the side, demonstrates Chef Avner Samuel’s skill. Another appetizer, tempura shrimp with a black bean ginger sauce, features good tender shrimp, and demonstrates some of the Asian influences at Yellow.

A tamarind plum sauce balances the richness of honey-spiced duck, and a square of crusty sweet potato gratin and heaps of perfectly cooked vegetables fill up the plate. Any of the pasta dishes make a thoroughly satisfying meal, especially the earthy penne with roasted peppers and shiitake mushrooms. But, tor the most part, seafood rules here, and the corn-crusted halibut, with its delicate lemongrass butter sauce, might just be the best entree.

Meals can end decadently with a wedge of brownie-like chocolate cake coupled with a scoop of rum raisin, but the simple, potent lemon tart does the job better, and not just because it’s yellow.

2719 McKinney Ave., 214-871-1772. Lunch weekdays, dinner Monday-Saturday. Expensive.-S.H.



Adelmo’s

Best Quick Trip to the Mediterrane

Every time I cross the portals of Adelmo’s, a tiny, caring family-run restaurant on Cole Avenue located in a narrow edifice just off of Knox, I am transported to similar establishments in Italy and the Mediterranean. Adelmo’s offers authentic Italian dining on two stories and, though I often favor mounting its steep, narrow, sagging staircase for an intimate, candlelit meal, at lunchtime on a recent visit, I chose to sit downstairs, across from the bar and the busy owner.

The extent to which Adelmo’s wishes to please is one of its hallmarks. While I perused the menu, including a long list of daily specials listed on a blackboard, I was treated to a platter of excellent, homemade pickled cauliflower, carrots, zucchini, and olives, as well as tasty hard rolls and sweet butter. My Italian companion and the waiter became instant friends over her choice of appetizers-mozzarella and sliced tomato topped with olive oil and fresh basil-though when they arrived, we found the tomatoes not up to snuff. I began with the mussels and, instead of the usual spicy red marinara sauce, selected the special mussels francaise in a delectable yellow saffron sauce, each mollusk fresh, open, and succulent.

Of all its offerings, Adelmo’s is perhaps most famous for its grilled veal chop, easily a meal for two. Ours had been marinated for many hours in olive oil and herbs and, after having been seated on the grill, was brought to us, its bone still in, tender, juicy, pink as requested, and bursting with flavor. The Texas veal, sauced with reduced meat juices, garlic, and green peppercorns, was surrounded by putty, expertly finished potatoes and broccoli, zucchini, and carrots that were properly al dente. Another excellent choice, heavier and best in winter, is the osso buco or veal shank, stewed for many hours in red wine with herbs and fresh vegetables.

At another meal, as an appetizer, my companion chose a savory grilled quail, served on a bed of vegetables, while I enjoyed crab cakes. Our shared rack of lamb, gently scented with rosemary was, once again, of the highest quality and rare as requested. Another time we dined on delectable, exquisitely grilled soft-shell crabs, though we were grateful that we had requested that the tomato-basil sauce, which might have overpowered the delicate crab, he served on the side.

Everyone has his or her favorite crème brulée and Adelmo’s is mine. I love the contrast between its rich, satiny custard and its readily shattered, smooth-as-glass burnt sugar top. Espresso is quintessentially Italiano. Service here is lovely and devoted, all the more so since the owner is always on hand to see that the food is of top quality and expertly prepared and that his customers are looked after.

4537 Cole Ave., 214-559-0325. Lunch Monday-Friday; dinner Monday-Saturday. Moderate to expensive. -J.H.



Sea Grill

Best thing to happen in a mini-mall

Outstanding seafood in a little restaurant strip on the access road to Central; Upscale fish preparation in the same center that houses Fuddruckers and Ming Garden.’ Absolutely. Chef Andy Tun, whose Thai roots are responsible for the unique Asian influences on this seafood-focused menu, deserves the credit. His Asian-American spin on classic seafood dishes might make him the Wolfgang Puck of Dallas (rather, er, Plano).

There’s been a good bit of effort to make this restaurant seem like it’s not in a mini-mall-an inviting brick bar, nice seafood-themed art-but it’s the food that truly transcends the setting. One of the daily specials, mussels in a lemongrass broth, consists of a couple dozen impossibly plump, tender, flavorful mussels in a delicate broth that demands to be sopped up with the slices of French baguette loaves. A dinner appetizer, thin slices of good-quality smoked salmon, totally satisfies, served with all the traditional accompaniments like capers, caviar, creme fraiche, dill, horseradish, chopped red onion, and toasted pumpernickel. The single best item on the lunch menu might be the blackened tuna sandwich with chive mayonnaise, served on herhed grilled bread. The fish’s abundant juices make it a two-napkin sandwich, and the plate is heaped with excellent fries and coleslaw. At night, with soft lighting, Harry Connick, Jr. singing in the background, and a bottle from the nicely priced wine list (the Acacia chardonnay teams up with seafood well), the restaurant softens and turns cozy. The fish comes grilled, poached, braised; and the menu lists shellfish, pasta, and beef as welt, but, once you’ve tried it, it’s hard to resist the lobster-a fat claw and tail perched on an excellent potato pancake, surrounded by perfectly simple, perfectly cooked vegetables. Desserts, like all the food served here, look like they’re created by an artist. The profiteroles (ice cream-filled cream puffs with a bittersweet chocolate sauce) make a sweet ending to a meal, especially when shared.

2205 N. Central Expwy., Plano, 214-509-5542. Lunch: Monday-Friday;dinner daily. Moderate. -S.H.



Morton’s of Chicago

Best Reason to Reject Vegetarianism

Steakhouses pepper the streets of Dallas, but Morton’s succeeds in a way that rockets it to the head of the class-a perfect blend of good food, old-fashioned service, and fine wine. Understatement reigns. Dark wood gleams, etched glass sparkles, and each table sports a single, classy blossom and white starched linens. The staff knows enough to keep the lighting low and the Sinatra-style music muted, and they give diners ample time Co enjoy a glass of wine before deciding what to order. The process of ordering dinner, involving a sort of “show & tell” with a cart loaded with plastic-wrapped meats, prepares customers tor the generous si:es of the portions served here. The wine list, including choices by the glass, dazzles, and martini aficionados know that they can sip martinis for more than a month at Morton’s and never sample the same type twice.

Caesar salads, heaped with homemade croutons and peppy dressing, fall into the big-enough-to-split category, as does the house salad, rich with anchovies, blue cheese, and chopped eggs. The warm onion bread served here is pure comfort food.

Meat, however, rules at Morton’s, especially the ribeyes and the grilled veal chops, both of which drip with flavor and juice. The menu also lists several alternatives to meat, like lobster, shrimp, and chicken as well as simply prepared fresh fish. Side dishes, which typically serve two to three people, can’t be beat. Hash browns, in the form of a big, crispy potato pancake, score high marks, as do the simply steamed broccoli and the sautéed spinach.

The dessert list includes cheesecake and chocolate cake, but lighter choices like fresh berries (topped with a little sabayon sauce) or premium ice cream round out the meal nicely, The soufflés, especially the Grand Marnier version, with its crusty top and soft orange-y interior, taste heavenly.

501 Elm St., 214-741-2277; 14831 Midway Rd., Addison, 214-233-5858. Dinner daily. Expensive. -S.H.



MoMo’s Italian Specialties

Best Italian Accent

First, let’s clear up something. The two Momo’s on Forest and Preston are no longer connected with MoMo’s Pasta on Belt Line, Elm, and Knox. The owner here is Antonio Gattini Gosetti, nicknamed “MoMo” by his Venice-born nanny.

At the original Monro’s on Forest, the decor pretty much limits itself to brick walls and simple wooden tables. There’s no wine list-bring your own for the incredibly low corkage fee of $1.75 per bottle of wine or six-pack of beer. It might take you a long time to order, first because of the menu’s entertaining, informative style, and second because of its length. There are choices from all over Italy.

Meals start with baskets of herbed slices of crusty pizza dough, with a tasty version of pesto, rich with parsley and cheese. A lunch salad of lettuces, herbs, tomatoes, and cubed fontina in a light garlic vinaigrette nicely sets the stage for a knockout of a pizza, the quattro stagioni. An excellent homemade crust holds generous amounts of good prosciutto, olives, artichoke hearts, and mushrooms. The menu offers a couple dozen types of pizza, as well as mini pizza appetizers. The popular lasagna is offered only at lunch, because, as MoMo explains it he put it on the dinner menu, too many people would order it, and he’d have to stop offering as many entrees as he currently does.

Bresaola, thin slices of air-dried beef, requires good quality beef, and MoMo’s satisfies. They’ve given another classic, carpaccio (sliced tenderloin topped with a savory mayonnaise), their own twist by serving it accompanied with cucumber, radicchio, radishes, and hearts of palm to offer a play on textures and tastes. You can order the homemade pasta topped with a light, fresh-tasting tomato sauce, or a pun-gently rich pesto sauce, or, even better, order one of each and share. The pizzaiola veal, tender meat in an assertive sauce of tomatoes, olives, and capers, topped with soft mozzarella, makes a wonderful medley of flavors. Meals wind down with a selection of cheeses, Italian ice-cream desserts, or pastries, or, if you’re very lucky, complimentary glasses of Sambuca from the manager. Salute!

9191 Forest Ln., 214-2.34-6800; 8300 Preston Center Cir., 214-987-2082. Lunch and dinner daily. Moderate.-S.H.



Gloria’s Restaurant

Best Latin American Fare

In this family-run business, Mom (Gloria) and Dad (José) train the cooks to duplicate recipes from their native El Salvador. They’re famous for their “wickedly good” Hack bean dip, served along with a perky salsa and tortilla chips at the start of every meal. They’re also known for their divine margaritas, (hut a trip to the ladies’ room at the original West Davis Street location after one or two can be a jarring awakening, due to the unexpected 6-inch step down to the room.) They offer a full bar, a few wines, and several coffee drinks, but beer seems to quench the thirst best here. This restaurant may have a casual, relaxed atmosphere, but the service couldn’t be better, friendlier, or more helpful.

The menu carefully explains each item, a boon to newcomers. Three special soups, including beef tripe, are dished up only on weekends, but that still leaves more than 70 tempting-sounding entrees to choose from,

The columns list Salvadoran food, Mexican, combinations of the two, seafood and more, and you order by the number printed beside the item. The sample platter, #9, introduces the menu’s variety well, with a banana-leaf-wrapped tamal, a pupusa (a very tasty cheese-stuffed corn tortilla), slices of yuca (a tropical root), platano (a tropical banana), along with rice and excellent, smoky black beans. Of the entrees, #24 drew the most raves at one recent meal, with its tender, nicely seasoned shrimp and onions over Spanish rice. Wear old clothes if you order #29, a seafood soup loaded with cubed fish and vegetables, because the bowl also contains half of an enormous crab in the shell, uncracked, and every bit worth the work of dislodging the succulent meat.

Gloria’s menu pronounces its flans the best in town, and there arc two choices, both served cut in wedges, garnished with strawberries and aerosol-can whipped cream. The two offer completely different textures-the chocolate thinner and mildly flavored, the milk (vanilla) wonderfully rich and smooth. Indeed, it just might be the best flan in town.

600 W. Davis St., 214-948-3672; 4140 Lemmon Ave., 214-521-7576. Lunch and dinner daily. Inexpensive. -S.H.



Chez Gerard

Most Classic French Menu

Che: Gerard manages to uphold the best traits of French restaurants, like exquisite food, service, and wine; but, at the same time, it makes fine French cuisine approachable. No need to dress up; you’ll feel comfortable here in casual clothes. The service isn’t the anticipated snooty stuff; instead, the staff unobtrusively aims to make your meal perfect.

Country French food is dished up here, which means simpler, more rustic dishes, like a casserole of scallops in a red wine sauce, rabbit fricassee, and a warm apple tart. French wines, of course, dominate the wine list, no surprise, and the staff helpfully steers you through it if you ask them for advice.

Che: Gerard otters dishes rarely seen on menus outside of France, like roasted pigeon, grilled mullet, and halibut tartare. The hors d’oeuvres list is classic French, with escargot, frogs’ legs, and paté, but the steamed mussels in a dill-flavored cream deserve accolades-a dish, if you were alone in your kitchen, that would have you drinking every drop of the cream sauce after you’d polished off the mussels.

A peppery beef tenderloin in a creamy, cognac-laced sauce, exceeds all expectations, and it’s surrounded by a mountain of heavenly, crispy pommes frites. A daily special, a veal chop with anchovy butter, teamed with tasty, waffle-cut fries, couldn’t be better. Its side plate comes loaded with an array of steamed vegetables and parsleyed potatoes.

Meals are served in the cozy, dimly lit, inside room, or in the covered patio, and both locations set the scene for romance. The ultra-thin apple tart provides the best finale to the evening, although other French classics are also offered, like soufflés and crème caramel.

4444 McKinney Ave., 214-522-6865. Lunch weekdays; dinner Monday-Saturday. Moderate. -S.H.